


Russian Roulette

by fayedartmouth



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Original Character - Freeform, Political, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-09-25
Updated: 2000-09-25
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayedartmouth/pseuds/fayedartmouth
Summary: When the political situation in Russia gets sticky, the White House seeks assistance from an American diplomat and his office.





	1. Russian Roulette

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

author: Faye Dartmouth 

summary: When the political situation in Russia gets sticky, the White House  
seeks assistance from an American diplomat and his office.

warnings: Just so you all know, I don't know anything about politics except  
for what I learned in my government class at school. So don't go crazy if  
my political story line sucks-I'm only 17, I can't even vote yet, why would  
I know anything? Oh, and about Russian names-if I was a really good person,  
I would've done some research but sadly, I'm not since I spend too much time  
every night laying out yearbook spreads and doing calculus homework (yes,  
the joys of being a high school student). So I made them up. Vladimir  
Putin is actually the somewhat new Russian President but he's not been shot  
at or anything, I really just made that up. I also have no intent or desire  
to shoot him, so I hope I don't make you think I do. Alexandr Kovac is  
totally fictional, as is General Markov. I'm sorry if that's completely  
unbelievable but truthfully those characters weren't the purpose of the  
story. So, enough babbling now and on to the story (oh, and feedback is  
always nice)

disclaimer: I really don't own them but someone does but I don't mean any  
harm. I made up some of these characters, namely Caelan Reed and Gary  
Johansen.

Russian Roulette  
CHAPTER 1  
Secretaries were bustling about the office, running errands and performing  
odds and ends for their respective bosses. Political things were  
happening-public appearances and Senate votes and national issues. All in  
all, life in the West Wing was sailing along as smoothly as it ever did.  
But unbeknownst to the entire staff, something was about to rock the boat.  
Of the many TVs running the building, many were tuned to CNN or any news  
station. And they all broke the same story. It caught Donna's attention as  
she was typing up a memo for Josh. The anchorman was saying, "It is now  
reported that Russian President, Vladimir Putin, has been shot at while  
speaking in Moscow."  
Her mouth went slack, and she immediately got up and stumbled back to  
Josh's office, opening the door without knocking.  
"Donna, I'm on the phone," he hissed at her.  
She looked at him and shook her head. "You've got to see this," she said.  
Reluctantly, Josh hung up the phone and watched as she changed the channel  
from weather to news. When he heard the basic report, he sat there, staring  
dumbly, stunned as well.  
Toby was watching in his office and stared blankly at the news, when he  
heard Sam say next door. "What?!" Toby waited for a second then Sam came  
into his office hurriedly. "Have you heard?"  
They watched in silence as the report continued. "While making a speech in  
Moscow, the Russian leader was shot at-there are various reports of how many  
shots were fired-everything from one to six. There is no word on how many  
of the shots hit the Russian President, but he was whisked away from the  
scene," the anchorman said. He held his earpiece a moment, listening. "It  
has now been confirmed that the Russian President was rushed to a local  
hospital where he has been announced dead. To update you, the Russian  
President has been shot and killed at a speech in Moscow. They have  
suspects in custody, and they are reportedly from the radical groups that  
have been prevalent in Russia for as long as one can remember."  
A knock came at the door and Ginger poked her head in. "Leo wants to see  
you in his office right now," she said, her voice reflective of the  
instability of the situation that was developing.  
"Thanks," Toby said, as he stood up. Then to Sam, he said, "Just when we  
think we can put one problem away, it always comes back and bites us."  
Sam shook his head. "Yeah, well, the problem with this bite is that we  
don't know if it's poisonous or not yet."  
They were walking now, side by side, nearly at Leo's office. "So we better  
start sucking out the blood just in case, right?"  
"Something like that," Sam said, as the came to the door. They went inside  
to find the rest of the Senior Staff already assembled, looking somewhat  
grim.  
"Great, now that you're all here, I would like to know what we know about  
the situation in Russia," Leo said.  
The staff all looked at each other, shaking their heads. Josh finally  
said, "I've tried reaching the US Embassy in Moscow but I haven't gotten  
anyone on the phone yet. Donna's still working on it."  
Leo sighed heavily. "Okay, look. I want to know what all of this means.  
The situation with Russia has never been exactly ideal but it's been getting  
better ever since Putin got elected into office. Who's their vice  
president?"  
"Alexandr Kovac," Josh said. "But he's not much of anybody. They added  
him to the ballot just for the politics. The guy's a nobody."  
"So is it safe to assume that the Russian people will be in a little bit of  
a panic?" Leo asked.  
"Probably," Josh said, who had become the apparent Russian expert. "But  
it's hard to say. I don't exactly know much about Russia except that Putin  
was the President, and he's been fairly friendly to the US."  
"Well, considering the country's history and instability, I doubt they'll  
react well to having the little consistency they had obliterated," Sam said.  
"But we don't know anything," Leo said.  
"Technically, no," Sam said.  
"Well, I want someone to stay on top of this. Josh, why not you since you  
seem to know more than any of us," Leo suggested. "But we all have to stay  
alert in case it takes a turn for the worse."  
"But, I don't actually know-"  
"Then call someone who does," Leo said curtly. "If you need help, Sam will  
back you up on it. So that's all people. I don't want this getting out of  
control, and I want to be kept in the loop."  
"What should I tell the press?" CJ asked before anyone could leave.  
"I don't know," Leo replied. "Say that we're saddened by the Russian  
people's loss. It stinks that he got killed."  
"I'm not sure that would go over so well," CJ said.  
"What do you think you should say?"  
"Does the White House have an official position as of yet?"  
"Just say that… the President is disturbed and saddened by the events and  
offer condolences to the Russian people for now. If things get stickier,  
we'll probably get more involved but let's just stay distanced until then."  
"Okay," CJ said. "Thanks."  
"Anything else?" Everyone shook their heads. "Okay, now go do what you're  
paid to do."  
Nods followed and the senior staff dispersed. Josh meandered back towards  
his, slightly downtrodden. He didn't need any more stress in his life, and  
this whole Russian thing was just another thing to consume his time. As he  
neared his office, he came past Donna's desk. She abruptly noticed him and  
got up, following him into his office.  
"So?" she asked expectantly when Josh had settled behind his desk.  
"So what?" Josh asked, beginning to sort through the mound of papers.  
"What happened?" she asked more specifically, clearly mildly perturbed.  
"So… nothing," Josh said. "I've got to contact someone who knows something  
about Russia. Let's make that you're job."  
"Someone like… who?" she said curiously. "I mean, I could get you a school  
kid who just finished a report on Russia or something."  
"Donna, I was thinking of someone a little more in touch with current  
politics. Don't we have an ambassador or something to Russia? The US  
Embassy in Russia?"  
"Well, talking to the US Embassy in Russia is going to be difficult  
considering that they're… well, in Russia."  
"Just find someone," Josh said desperately.  
"Okay," Donna said as if Josh were being unreasonable. "Is there any  
particular hurry?"  
"Yes. I mean, the Russian President was killed this morning, we should  
really know what's going on."  
"Okay," Donna said again, jotting a note down on her notepad. "I'll get  
back to you."  
Already buried in his work, Josh said, "Wonderful."

TBC....

  

  


	2. Russian Roulette 2

okay, so here's part 2. I apologize for anything that's really wrong or  
inconceivable in the whole political department. I think Sam said it best,  
"I really am dumb, most of the time I'm just playing smart." That's pretty  
much me. Oh well. All the disclaimers and stuff is in part one.

Russian Roulette  
CHAPTER 2

  
The day was still fairly young, but for the White House staffers, the day  
had begun long ago. It was a crisp September morning outside, and the sky  
was clear and blue with sunlight already beating down on the pavement,  
belying the snap the air had. But inside the West Wing, no one could even  
tell a difference.  
Business as usual was the way it was, as it always seemed to be. They were  
always in the middle of some crisis-political or otherwise. And while the  
Russian situation hadn't escalated too much over the night, it had elicited  
a certain amount of fear from the nation, and the White House, as the  
Russian people were still reeling from the shock.  
At her desk, Donna was talking on the phone, busily writing down the  
message and notes she was collecting. "Okay, thank you," she said, and hung  
up. After organizing the notes and adding an appointment to the calendar,  
she established herself and went over to Josh's office.  
"Gary Johansen," she said simply with no introduction.  
"Excuse me?" Josh asked.  
"Gary Johansen," she said again. "That's who you want to talk to about the  
whole Russian thing."  
"Who's Gary Johansen?"  
"He's the guy you want to talk to."  
"No, but why do I want to talk to him?"  
"He spent ten years in the US Embassy in Russia, and just moved back last  
May when the new President-late President-old-"  
"I get the idea," Josh cut her off.  
"So I scheduled an appointment for tomorrow afternoon."  
"What time?"  
"One. I'm not sure if Gary will make it himself but he assured me that one  
of his people would."  
"Do his people know what's going on?"  
"I would think so."  
"Okay, great."  
Donna waited expectantly as Josh continued with his work. After a moment,  
Josh realized that his blonde hair assistant was still standing there. "Was  
there something else?" he asked.  
"You know, a thank you might be nice every now and then," she said.  
"Wha-where did that come from?"  
"I do all these things for you and you never even say thank you. I mean,  
you would be drowning in your work if it wasn't for me and I don't ask for  
much. Just 'thank you' every now and then."  
Confused, Josh tried to calm her. "Okay, okay, take it easy. Sometimes I  
forget. Everything you do is very important to me. Thank you."  
"Your welcome," she said, as she began out the office. "I just want a  
little appreciation."  
In typical Josh form, he stared confounded at nothing for moment. There  
were times when his assistant was completely endearing and thoughtful.  
Other times, she was the most impossible person to understand. Her mind  
took turns he couldn't follow, and he never seemed to know why she was mad  
at him once he figured out that she was mad at him. Shaking his head  
decidedly, he concentrated his efforts on his work.

The press anxiously watched as CJ walked to the podium in the Press Room.  
This was a routine for all of them, but as journalists, they made it point  
to take every story and analyze it, looking for unique angles, angles with  
an edge to them. And that edge depended largely on what CJ Cregg, the Press  
Secretary, told them, and what they could get her to say. As they were  
quick to learn, CJ didn't give them much besides what she intended to, but  
they could never keep themselves from trying.  
Professionally, CJ stood before them. Her face was more or less  
expressionless-set in that Press Secretary mode that it always seemed to be  
in. She straightened her notes and began without hesitation. "Good  
morning," she began. "It's a fairly busy day today as most of you know, so  
let's try to do this without getting too bogged down, shall we? Okay.  
First off, we'll deal with what's most likely on your minds, the  
assassination of Russian President Vladimir Putin. President Bartlet was  
deeply shocked by the incident, and saddened. He and President Putin had  
met over the summer to discuss relations between the United States and  
Russia and was quite pleased by the outlook. Although he sends his  
condolences to the Russian people, he hopes that friendship and goodwill  
continues to grow between our two nations.  
"Next, The First Lady arrived at the White House today after a four day  
trip to Portugal to meet with other women from around the world to discuss  
child labor…."

Washington was its usual and political self as the fall began to come upon  
it. Seasons changed and the political scene continued as it always does.  
But on that particular fall day, things were extraordinarily hectic for one  
office in particular.  
Gary Johansen had never been extremely prominent in the political scene, at  
least not in the United States. He'd spent ten years living in Russia,  
working at the US Embassy in Moscow. In that time, he dealt a lot on a  
daily basis with Russian officials, but all under the direction of his  
superiors. He'd come to love Russia as home, as did his family. Moving  
back to the States had been a drastic change, but one they had all come to  
appreciate. The job was less stressful here, since he wasn't in the heat of  
the battle. Gary's job was much more indirect now, working mostly with the  
Russian Embassy in DC.  
And then the Russian President had been pronounced dead and everything fell  
apart. The Russians were panicking, the diplomats in Russia were  
frantically calling on the phone. The implications were completely  
unpredictable. But predicting them was the only job he had right now.  
He was on hold again, while talking to a US diplomat in Russia. He'd been  
on hold a lot today, and was getting used to the emptiness of it. He was  
humming to occupy himself when his young assistant walked in.  
"I got Peter calmed down," she said softly, sitting down easily. "You'd  
think that Russia had fallen off the map the way Peter was acting."  
Gary shrugged. "Well, Peter worked his butt off trying to get Putin into  
office and someone goes off and kills the guy. Plus, this is his home  
country. At any given moment, Russia could fall off the face of the earth  
with this kind of event."  
"I guess," Caelan sighed. She fell silent and it was then that Gary first  
noticed how frazzled the young woman looked. He'd hired Caelan Reed in the  
beginning of the summer, but she became vital to his work almost  
immediately. She was exceptionally bright and incredibly sweet, that he'd  
fallen in love with her at once. Her perseverance and optimism were  
qualities that made her irreplaceable as his assistant. She could do grunt  
work, and she could handle delicate negotiations for him. He knew he was  
lucky to find her and wondered how long it was before she left DC all  
together. After all, he kept reminding himself, she was only in town while  
earning her PhD in language.  
"Did he say what he thought would happen?" Gary asked.  
Caelan shook her head regretfully. "He's a mess. If I asked him which way  
was up, he'd point down."  
"Well-" Gary began but then the voice on the other end of the line came  
back. "Yes, I'm here."  
Caelan straightened, looking on with interest.  
"I know, Chuck," Gary said, talking to US diplomat currently in the  
Embassy. "No riots? Not yet? You think there will be? Yeah… it depends  
on how Kovac handles himself… they need someone to follow… I understand.  
Call me soon. Thanks, Chuck. Bye."  
Gary hung up the phone with a gigantic sigh. Caelan looked anxious. "So?"  
"So far, Russia's still in shock," Gary said simply. "They don't know what  
to think."  
"How's the government looking to regroup?"  
"Hard to say. They're taking Kovac back to Moscow as we speak. He was  
vacationing at the time."  
"Is that wise?"  
"They haven't got a choice. The people need to see a leader."  
"When will Kovac be officially sworn in?" Caelan asked.  
"Chuck doesn't know yet but probably next week. There has to be a certain  
mourning period," Gary explained.  
"Who'll be the VP? I doubt Kovac will instill a lot of confidence in the  
people."  
"I know. They're talking about Markov."  
"Markov?" Caelan asked in disbelief. "When did he become a candidate?"  
"Hard to say," Gary said. "But he's our focus. That's what we have to  
tell the President's staff to look into-getting him on track."  
"When are you meeting with them?"  
"Well, I'm not actually meeting with them," Gary said hesitantly. "But  
tomorrow at one… you are."  
"I am?" Caelan asked slowly. "Why?"  
"I've got to be here talking to Chuck all day. So, it's all you."  
"Me?" Caelan repeated not fully grasping it as her stomach flipped. "Oh…  
no."  
"Don't worry, I have complete confidence in you."  
"I'm glad one of us does."

~~that night~~  
In the residence section of the White House, Josiah Bartlet was trying to  
unwind from another day. Every day in his life was stressful anymore, and  
it was only a question of whether it would keep him up all night or not.  
And tonight was not looking for optimistic.  
"You know, Abbey, even when I think I've got my country figured out, some  
other country has to come along and have problems," Jed said, as he lay in  
bed by his wife.  
"Well, then don't worry about them," she said tiredly. Her days were  
stressful too, but she could always shed them at the door and sleep was  
beckoning her.  
"Yeah, right, like that's possible," Jed scoffed. "I would if that was an  
option but unfortunately it isn't. I may be the leader of this country but  
somehow that makes me involved in just about any and every other country  
around. Especially Russia."  
"Is this about the Russian president being assassinated?" she asked, giving  
up on trying to sleep and sat up.  
"Russia is a big country and it's always been one of those countries we've  
watched with disdained. In general, they scare the crap out of us. And  
that just ticks me off."  
"What do you want to do about it? What can you do about it?"  
"I don't know," Jed admitted. "I've got my staff looking into the  
implications. Maybe this will have nothing to do with the stability of the  
country but what are the odds of that. All we need is for the Russian  
people to panic, overthrow the government, following some insane madman like  
Lenin or Stalin again. But knowing my luck, that's what we're headed for."  
"Yes, I'm sure that the Russian people will panic just so you can't sleep  
at night," Abbey agreed sarcastically. "The Cold War never really ended.  
This is all apart of the Russian conspiracy."  
Jed cast an annoyed glance at his wife who simply smiled at him. "You  
know, Abbey, that's not funny," he said. "I've got to see the big picture  
to run the country. And that's a lot of responsibility."  
Abbey groaned. "Yes, Jed, I know. Trust me, I know that by now. Those  
are tremendous responsibilities. But they're not your only responsibilities  
and I would argue that they're not even your most important  
responsibilities."  
"Do you care to enlighten me as to what are my most important  
responsibilities?"  
"Well, first of all there's yourself. Jed, you can't burn yourself out for  
the country. It's no good for you, and it's no good for them in the end  
either. And then there's me. I need you, Jed. Maybe that's selfish, but  
you said you'd be there for me when we got married and I'm holding you to it  
whether you're the President or not. And then there are the girls. Our  
girls may be mostly grown up, but they still need a father. Just because  
they don't live at home anymore doesn't mean they have any idea what they're  
doing," Abbey said. "When you really compare them, doesn't the whole  
Russian situation just pale?"  
Jed thought about it for a minute. "Now all that did was make me more  
worried," Jed finally said jokingly.  
Abbey rolled her eyes and laid back down. "Go to bed, Jed."  
Jed laughed and finally laid down. "Goodnight, Abbey."

TBC...

  


	3. Russian Roulette 3

Okey doke, chpater three. All disclaimers are in part one. I know, it's so  
thrilling. Feedback is fun!

Russian Roulette  
CHAPTER THREE  
~the next day~  
Donna Moss couldn't help but let out a sigh. Part of her wondered what  
possessed her to get such a job. When she first started working for Josh  
during the campaign, she'd been swept away by the apparent glamour of the  
job. It was face paced and selective, something which few people could say  
they actually had close involvement with. But Donna had seen the  
President's road to the office, and had been rewarded by getting an  
incredibly hectic job, working for one of the most impossible men she'd ever  
met. For example, this afternoon, she was doing some research for Josh  
about the day old Russian situation when she noticed a young woman looking  
slightly confused and lost standing nervously at her desk. Looking up,  
Donna asked, "Can I… help you?"  
The young woman smiled apprehensively. She had a khaki skirt on and a nice  
shirt. Her long dark brown hair was drawn fairly well into a braid. "Um,  
I'm here for Josh Lyman," she said, sounding hopeful that Donna would be  
able to help her.  
"Really," Donna said. Turning away from her computer, Donna looked over at  
the appointment book. "You must be from Gary Johansen's office."  
"Yes," she said gladly. "Yes, I'm Caelan Reed, Mr. Johansen's assistant."  
"Good," Donna said. "Well he's been expecting you but he's actually not  
back quite yet. I know he'll be back soon because he knows he has an  
appointment with you. Why don't you just go on into his office and wait."  
"Okay," she said agreeably.  
"Well, it's right behind you," Donna directed. "You can't miss it."  
Caelan glanced behind her and saw the door. "Oh, okay thanks."  
"Is this your first time in the White House?" Donna ventured, smiling.  
"Yeah," Caelan admitted.  
"Don't be scared," Donna advised. "We're just as disorganized and crazy  
here as anywhere else."  
Laughing, Caelan said, "I don't know if it's possible that you're more  
disorganized that at Mr. Johansen's office. I swear, with him in control of  
Russian relations, it's amazing we're not at war."  
Donna laughed as Caelan disappeared inside. When Josh wandered in a few  
minutes later, she stood to greet him. "There's a woman in your office," she  
said.  
Josh looked critically at her. "Why is there a woman in my office?"  
"Because she needs to see you."  
"Okay, but…," Josh tried to formulate a practical question. "Who is this  
woman in my office?"  
"Ummm… I don't actually know if I got her name."  
"Okay, Donna," Josh said, completely frustrated. "Why don't you just tell  
me-"  
"She's from Gary Johansen's office!" Donna exclaimed defensively.  
"Why didn't you just say so?"  
"I was getting there," Donna said.  
"Slowly," he mumbled as he walked into his office.  
"I heard that!" Donna yelled before he could close the door.  
Ignoring her, Josh turned to the young woman seated in front of his desk.  
He noted how she looked genuinely uncomfortable there. "Hi," he said,  
extending his hand. "I'm Josh Lyman."  
She rose to shake his hand, smiling. "I'm Caelan Reed. I'm from Gary  
Johansen's office."  
It took a moment for that to register and for him to remember exactly who  
Gary Johansen was. He recognized the name and knew that it was important,  
but until he concentrated, he didn't make the complete connection. "Ah,  
yes, the diplomat."  
"Right."  
"Well, have a seat, Miss Reed," Josh said, moving around to his side of the  
desk, gesturing to the chair she had been sitting in.  
"Really, Caelan's fine," she said.  
"Okay, Caelan, you can call me Josh," he said. "I hate to skip all the  
formalities and small talk but this is getting pretty serious. We've  
contacted Mr. Johansen's office because we're scared to death what's going  
to develop out of this whole Russian situation."  
"Well, I can speak quite confidently for Mr. Johansen. I've done all of  
his research, and been by his side as he's talked with the Embassy overseas.  
They're all fairly worried."  
"Where is Mr. Johansen?"  
"He's currently talking to the Russian ambassador that's been in the States  
for about five years now," Caelan said.  
"Good," Josh said approvingly. "If you can't tell, we're a little busy  
around here. The Russian situation is foremost in our minds right now.  
It's got the country all tensed up. We're going to hold a briefing later  
tonight about how the situation is playing out."  
"What can I do to help?" Caelan asked.  
"I take it you're pretty knowledgeable when it comes to Russia."  
"I know about the culture, the language, the people, the politics, and the  
current situation," Caelan said.  
"See, that's good. None of us know squat except that we're in trouble,"  
Josh told her. Getting up, he said, "I want you to come with me."  
Caelan hesitantly got up. "Where are we going?" she asked.  
Opening the door, he said, "You're going to meet the rest of the Senior  
Staff. They never let me work on anything alone."  
"Oh," Caelan said, unsure, then followed Josh out the door. Josh led her  
through an array of corridors, all looking frighteningly the same to Caelan  
as they rushed through the seemingly endless stream of traffic in the West  
Wing. She was rather thankful, when Josh finally came to a door, where he  
knocked politely and went it, Caelan on his heels.  
"Hey, Toby," Josh said. "Where's Sam?"  
"Sam's in his office," Toby said.  
Josh excused himself and called Sam over. Once they were all together,  
Josh said, "Okay, this is Caelan Reed, from Gary Johansen's office. She's  
here to help us with the whole mess is Russia. Oh, Caelan, this is Toby  
Ziegler, the White House Communications director and this is Sam Seaborn,  
Toby's Deputy."  
Toby nodded at her, and Sam shook her hand warmly. There was something  
that was cute about Caelan-the way she looked like a little girl, shyly out  
of place, and completely unsure of how to act. They could all tell a  
thousand thoughts were rushing through her head, and all she could do to  
show it was put on a dumb face and smile obliviously at everything.  
"So what can you tell us that we don't know?" Josh asked her, as all three  
men sat back to listen.  
"Well, that depends on how much you know," Caelan stated.  
"That's easy," Sam said. "We don't know anything."  
"Okay, then," Caelan said with a nervous laugh. "Mr. Johansen's been on  
the phone ever since the incident happened, talking to the guys in the US  
Embassy is Moscow. Things are pretty tense over there, but nothing's fallen  
apart yet."  
"Will it?" Josh questioned.  
"No one knows for sure. It depends on how well the government regroups  
after this attack."  
"What's their status right now?" Toby said.  
"Currently, Russia's in a state of martial law," Caelan explained. "The  
government is useless. There's no one there who has any control over  
anything anymore. Alexandr Kovac had less responsibility in the Russian  
government than Hoynes does in ours. So he doesn't even know what he's  
doing. He's a business man, not a politician. He doesn't know how to  
handle the people. So now it's all the military. On the bright side, one  
of the key generals, who is likely to be a candidate for the presidency in  
the next election, is open to the concept of democracy."  
"When you say he's open to the idea, what do you mean?" Toby asked.  
"I mean just that," Caelan said. "For years, he has avoided becoming a  
political figure. His strengths were always in the military arena.  
However, he has voiced to some very reliable sources, that he is warming up  
to the idea of leading the country. He is however, politically undecided.  
He's a man of the people, not only in their perception, but at heart too.  
From what Mr. Johansen's said, this guy is rare."  
"So, he wants what's best for his people, but he doesn't know for sure what  
that is," Toby concluded.  
"Exactly," Caelan said. "So, it's our job to convince him that democracy  
is the way to go. And then we've got to do everything we can to get this  
guy into office."  
"Great, so what's the first step?" Josh asked.  
Caelan shrugged. "Well, the ball's in your court," she said. "But I would  
show him the bright side of democracy."  
"And how do you suggest we do that?" Sam asked.  
"Well, several of the generals in the Russian military are coming over to  
America to be briefed by their consulate here in DC including the popular  
General Markov," Caelan said.  
"So, we need to arrange a small welcoming party here at the White House,"  
Sam said.  
"Then see if they're interested in talking further in a more professional  
atmosphere," Toby concluded.  
"Sounds like you guys have a plan," Caelan said, smiling.  
"Yeah, but we still don't know how to make it work," Josh pointed out.  
Still smiling, Caelan said, "I guess that's why I'm here."

TBC.......

  


	4. Russian Roulette 4

Well, as you can tell, this is turning into a new character kind of dealy.  
Anyway, all disclaimers are in the first part.

Russian Roulette  
CHAPTER FOUR  
The next day, when Caelan returned to the White House, Sam noticed there  
was something slightly different about her. Her stride was still timid, but  
confidently timid, as if she accepted her timidity but still knew deep down  
she was in control. He greeted her with a handshake. "Come on in," he  
said.  
"Thank you," Caelan said courteously as she sat down.  
Sam found his way behind his desk, where he sat down. An awkward silence  
followed before Sam finally said, "This is not the way I usually go about  
writing. I mean, generally, I write with people I know-Toby or the other  
speech writers. Rarely is there someone from outside the West Wing that  
really helps me out on the speeches I write."  
"Then why am I here?" Caelan said.  
"Well, frankly, no one in the West Wing knows jack about Russia. I mean,  
we know the generalities, but we have no resident expert on Russia. When we  
don't have a resident expert, we go find one," Sam explained. "Your boss  
and you are it."  
"Well, how flattering," Caelan said.  
"It's quite a privilege and a big responsibility," Sam continued. "I mean,  
if you feed me misinformation, we could destroy all relations with Russia  
and any chance the country has at a true and functional democracy."  
Giving a quick, nervous laugh, Caelan said, "That's very reassuring."  
"No, no," Sam quickly said. "I'm sure you'll do fine."  
"Right," Caelan agreed, unconvinced. "I thought Josh was in charge of the  
whole Russia thing-why are you stuck with all the grunt work on it?"  
Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, Josh doesn't write speeches for  
parties-that's the kind of thing I do. And I'm his backup. And he's  
already exceedingly busy trying to strongly suggest a new bill to be put on  
the table in the House. He has other very important concerns that he has to  
deal with. Therefore I, as his backup, am handling the minor details of the  
Russian incident."  
"Really. Don't you have other important things to do too?"  
"Sometimes I pretend like I do, but when you get down to it, there is  
nothing more important to me at this moment than sitting here, writing a  
speech with an apparently wonderful and brilliant young woman who I have  
just met."  
Despite herself, Caelan's face turned a shade of red that contrasted with  
her light complexion. It made Sam grin inwardly. "So, do you know off hand  
of anything that would help me connect to the General. What sort of things  
do the Russians want to hear?"  
Recomposed, Caelan cleared her throat. With a swift movement, she shoved a  
piece of hair behind her ear. "Flatter them. Don't start by telling them  
what terrible shape their country is in. General Markov is a proud man, who  
has never needed anyone to get where he wanted to go. He wants what's best  
for his people because that's just how he is. But he really has to know why  
what we're saying is the way to go."  
"Boost his ego then slide in the important stuff?" Sam asked.  
"Yeah, pretty much. But keep it short. We're going to have to have a  
translator as it is since Markov doesn't speak English."  
"He doesn't speak English?"  
"No," Caelan said. "Not everyone in the world speaks English. That's a  
very American attitude that we always seem to have."  
"It's not that, it just seems like most political leaders generally know it  
for communications purposes," Sam justified himself.  
"Then why don't you know Russian for communications purposes?"  
"That's different."  
"How?" Sam opened his mouth to speak but found he didn't have a response.  
Caelan grinned in victory. "Besides, General Markov is a military man.  
He's never had a need to speak English."  
Looking somewhat pathetic, Sam fiddled with his laptop computer. "I'm not  
the stereotypical American," he defended himself like a child.  
"I never said you were."  
"You implied it."  
"I'm sorry if I did," Caelan told him. "I just don't see how you can  
expect people to know your language when you've made no effort to learn  
theirs."  
"I've got a lot of other things to do rather than spend my time learning a  
billion languages. It sounds extraordinarily boring anyway. I mean,  
someone who passes all their free time learning to speak a language that  
practically no one else they meet in their everyday life will ever speak  
needs to find something more productive to do with there time."  
"Well, you just told me all I do is waste my time."  
"You… study language?" Sam asked, hoping the answer would be no.  
"Yes."  
"So I take it you speak Russian?"  
"Yes. And Spanish, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Greek and  
several others, mostly smaller, lesser known dialects in Africa."  
Sam swallowed, red creeping up his cheeks. "Well, I really know how to put  
a foot in my mouth."  
Sam was more than a little relieved when Josh came in the door. His face  
brightened as he saw an opportunity to change the subject. "Josh," he said  
quickly. Then he noticed Josh's grim expression. "Good news?"  
Taking a deep breath, Josh said, "There was an assassination attempt on  
Alexandr Kovac."  
Caelan's mouth dropped open. "Is it the same group as before?"  
"They think so," Josh said.  
"Did they hit Kovac?" Caelan questioned.  
"No. Just scared him and the crowd he was talking to."  
"So what does this do to the situation?" Sam wondered.  
"It makes all the stakes that much higher. The Russian people have been  
screwed over time and time again. If they don't sense that they have  
something stable leading them, they'll panic."  
"Oh wonderful," Sam sighed.  
"Well, I just thought I'd let you know," Josh said. "I'm going to go  
quickly brief the President on where we're at with this. How's the speech  
coming?"  
"We actually haven't started it yet, but we have a good basis and it'll be  
done by the end of the day," Sam assured him.  
"Good," Josh said approvingly. Then he turned to Caelan. "Is everything  
still smooth sailing with Markov coming by tomorrow night."  
"As far as I know. He's on a plane right now," she said looking at her  
watch. "It should be landing in about three hours."  
"Great," Josh said. "I like to at least have some good news when I go in  
there."  
"It never seems to help though," Sam pointed out.  
"Trust me," Josh said. "I know."  
"To make you feel better," Caelan said before Josh could leave. "There's  
almost no way we can go wrong with this dinner. But if it does go wrong,  
all relations with Russia are probably permanently screwed. Markov is going  
to be the next VP, and probably the President after Kovac's term is up. If  
Markov hates what he hears tonight, he'll cut us off. This is a game of  
roulette we're playing right now. There's only one bullet, but it only  
takes one."  
"How do we avoid it?" Sam asked.  
"Not play the game at all."  
Josh made a frustrated grunt. "But if you don't play, you never win."  
Leaning back in her chair, Caelan said, "You're finally learning why you  
play the game."

Josh stood uneasily outside the oval office. The office itself had ceased  
to intimidate him long ago, but going in there updating the President would  
never stop being nerve-racking. Jed Bartlet was the leader of the most  
powerful nation in the world. He had a million things on his mind, and more  
than enough stress for five lifetimes. Though it was necessary, the  
President didn't really want Josh to come in there and tell him more  
information that he had to store in his mind, keep straight, and worry  
about.  
Charlie came out and said, "He's all yours."  
"What kind of mood is he in?"  
"The typical," Charlie said. "You know how it is."  
"I know," Josh whispered. "That's what I'm worried about."  
Putting on his best face, Josh strode into the office with an air of  
confidence that he had come to naturally walk. The President looked at him  
vaguely interested. "So what's up?"  
"Well, you know about the Russian incident," Josh began.  
"Yes, somewhere I heard something about someone being shot and how it was  
very, very bad. But you're here to tell me it's going to be okay, right?"  
"Well… more or less…."  
"No, Josh, that's not what I meant. I meant, you're handling the situation  
so I don't have to worry excessively over it. Right?"  
"We're currently handling the situation-that's true."  
"So I don't have to worry?"  
"We're hoping so, sir, but to tell you the truth, everything is on such  
shaky ground it's hard to say. We've arranged a dinner with General  
Markov-"  
"Yes, they told me about that. Put it on the calendar and everything."  
"Well, yes-"  
"And so everything is going to work out just fine, and the Russian people  
aren't going to panic and Markov is going to become an advocate for  
democracy."  
"We're-"  
"No, Josh, you're not understanding this. I don't care what you have to  
do, but you're going to make this situation work. Things will run smoothly  
and calmly-so smooth and calm, that I won't even know about it. Do you  
understand?"  
Josh thought about it for a moment. "Yes sir," he finally said.  
"Good. Now, you can go make sure that happens."  
"Alright. Thank you, sir," Josh said, and turned and left.

~later~  
"What's the weirdest language experience you've ever had?" Sam asked,  
reclining in his chair. The speech was done and being proofed, and he and  
Caelan were wasting time.  
"You know, fluently spoken Russian actually sound frighteningly like  
Klingon, you know from Star Trek," Caelan began. "So my friend Rochelle was  
a complete Star Trek freak and her mom was throwing her a surprise party.  
She made this entire skit for Star Trek characters and made me play the  
Klingon."  
"Really," Sam said, sincerely intrigued. "You know, I've only seen a  
couple of episodes of Star Trek only because of my little sister who is  
oddly infatuated with some aspect of the show. But in one of the episodes I  
did see, there were Klingons. The curious thing was they were females, and  
the cut of the clothing was strangely promiscuous."  
"I know," Caelan reminisced. "I had to get fully into costume."  
An image popped into Sam's head that he couldn't help but enjoy. "That's  
something I would've paid to see."  
Before Caelan could respond, her beeper went off. She looked at it  
curiously. "I'm sorry, but can I use your phone?"  
"Sure," Sam said.  
"Thanks," she said distractedly. She picked it up and dialed out. "Hi,  
April. You paged me. What's up?… uh-huh… he what?! Where's Gary? Okay,  
no, I'll call Peter. Thanks."  
She hung up and fell silent. After a contemplative moment, she finally  
looked up at Sam, a pit growing in her stomach. "We have a problem," she  
said.  
"What?" Sam asked nervously, noting had the mood had radically swayed and  
the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.  
Regretfully, she forced out the words. "General Markov's backing out of  
the dinner."  
TBC....


	5. Russian Roulette 5

Well, this story's almost over. Thanks to those who gave me feedback. You  
know where the disclaimers and such are. Yes, so here's the story, and I'm  
going to go disappear into nowhere so I can study calculus all weekend...  
thank goodness that I have the West Wing and fan fiction to keep me sane...

Russian Roulette  
CHAPTER FIVE  
Sam stared at her. "He's what?"  
"He's not coming," Caelan explained simply.  
"Why not?" Sam demanded.  
"I don't know for sure. But something tells me it has to do with Alexandr  
Kovac."  
"Kovac? Why?"  
Caelan sighed. "Kovac was never Putin's first choice for a running mate,  
but he was the logical political move to incorporate a wider range of  
people. Unfortunately, Kovac's always been against the US. We didn't think  
he'd assert himself so early on since throughout the process he's had no  
power but obviously he's not as dumb as he plays to be."  
"Caelan, what are you talking about?"  
"Kovac's putting pressure on Markov. He knows Markov wants the VP  
position. He also knows that Markov's susceptible to speaking his mind if  
he lets him get too out of hand. Basically, Kovac's asserting dominance and  
demanding obedience from Markov."  
"So what do we do?"  
"I'm going to call the Russian Embassy and talk to my friend there. We've  
got to convince Markov to come to the dinner."  
"Are you sure you can handle that? Shouldn't Mr. Johansen do that?" Sam  
wondered skeptically.  
"Mr. Johansen's at his daughter's school play. He can't miss it, and I'm  
not going to make him. I can handle this. He put me in complete control,"  
Caelan said, trying to show some confidence.  
"Okay," Sam agreed, hiding his reluctance.  
"I need to use the phone again," she told him, shyly.  
"By all means," he said, picking it up and handing it to her.  
Sam watched as Caelan dialed. Her breathing was coming quicker, and Sam  
noticed the mild dampness forming along her brow beneath her bangs. "Hi,  
can I talk to Peter?" she asked finally. "Thank you… Peter, hi. It's  
Caelan Reed. Is General Markov there… look, I need to talk to him… okay,  
put me on with his aide."  
Caelan's eyes went to meet his as she smiled encouragingly. When she  
started talking again, it was in a steady stream of Russian, which sounded  
like total gibberish to Sam. She talked animatedly; moving her hands a lot  
despite being on the telephone. There were long pauses and at times her  
voice sounded desperate. Then he saw her smile. With a few more  
affirmative sounding grunts, she hung up, beaming at him. "We got him," she  
said proudly.  
"You mean he's coming?"  
"Oh yeah."  
"How'd you do that?"  
"I just told him what Kovac was doing. Markov's a proud man-he's not going  
to let any puny rich politician tell him what to do. So, I've got him here,  
now it's your job to make him believe what you believe."  
"Do you think we can do it?" Sam asked her.  
Caelan gave an honest smile. Catching his gaze, she said, "You know,  
suddenly, I'm starting to believe that anything is possible."  
"Somehow, the fact that you believe it when you obviously have a much  
firmer grip on the subject than I do, I believe it too," Sam said.  
Caelan glanced at her watched. "Wow, where did my night go?" she whined,  
as she stretched from sitting in that chair all day.  
"I'm sorry," Sam quickly apologized. Have I kept you from something more  
important?"  
"Come on. I was helping my country. That's my duty or something.  
Besides, this is the kind of thing Mr. Johansen pays me for."  
"I couldn't have written the speech without you, much less gotten all the  
notes together to brief the President."  
"It was nothing really," Caelan insisted.  
"I'd like to make it up to you. Come out and get a bite to eat with me,  
maybe a drink," Sam suggested.  
She pondered it momentarily. "Well, I am hungry."  
"Great," Sam said happily. "We'll just run by Josh's office, give him the  
notes to brief the President and then we'll go."  
"Okay, sounds great."  
"Great," Sam said, letting it hang awkwardly as he smiled stupidly at  
Caelan. Eventually he got up and led Caelan through the hall to Josh's  
office. Sam knocked as a courtesy and went in.  
"Hey, Sam, Caelan," Josh said, as they walked in. "Is it finished?"  
"The speech is being proofed again by Kathy, and these are comprehensive  
notes on where we stand in terms of the Russian situation and what we're  
trying to accomplish tomorrow night when the Russian General and company  
joins us for a formal dinner," Sam explained.  
Josh appeared impressed, but moreover relieved. "How'd you guys get it  
done in one day?"  
"Well, we focused, put our heads together and forced ourselves to remain on  
task. We did not allow excessive amounts of time for chitchat, although it  
did occur on occasion but that was conducive to our productivity, and it  
kept our energy from being completely sapped."  
"Great… that's great," Josh said. "You guys going home?"  
"Actually, Sam invited me out for a bite to eat," Caelan said before Sam  
could reply.  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. I'm sure you could come along," Caelan said, choosing to ignore how  
Sam flushed as she proposed the idea. "If you're on your way out."  
Josh thought about it for a moment. "You know, that sounds like a fine  
idea. Let me just get my stuff together and then we'll be on our way."  
"Wonderful," Caelan said, smiling broadly.  
Forcing a smile, Sam added a weak, "Great."

~later that night~  
Seated together at a small table, the three laughed somewhat drunkenly,  
despite the fact that Caelan hadn't ordered any alcohol, which inevitably  
caused Josh and Sam to limit themselves to one beer a piece. Then,  
together, they chugged the complimentary water, while eating their late  
night meal.  
Between gasping breaths, Josh managed to conclude his story. "So the next  
thing we knew, Sam is in the water, flailing around hopeless. We had to  
throw him a life preserver, which ended up hitting him neatly in the head  
and nearly drowned him."  
Caelan burst out laughing. "The life preserver almost made you drown?"  
"When it hits you on the head, you become strangely disoriented and don't  
even think to grab it," Sam defended himself, not laughing nearly as much as  
Josh and Caelan.  
Seeing Sam's somewhat mock hurt look, Caelan gentle patted him on the back.  
"It's okay, Sam. I still like you."  
With his laughter finally under control, Josh evened his breathing. "Wow,  
I just realized how much I have to go to the bathroom," he said suddenly,  
getting up. "I'll be right back."  
Sam watched as Josh left, and then realized he was alone with Caelan. She  
was taking a sip of water, her long hair slipping out of the braid, and her  
face was finally beginning to relax. Feeling somewhat intoxicated by the  
moment, Sam said, "You know, I never realized how much fun it can be when  
you don't actually get drunk, you just act drunk. It's like you get the  
insanity of drunkenness, but you manage to retain your awareness."  
Caelan looked up from her glass, to look Sam in the eyes. For the first  
time, Sam noticed how radiantly green they were. They were sparkling at the  
moment, when she spoke, "And you'll remember what happened when you wake up  
the next morning."  
Sam opened his mouth to say something more, when Josh returned to the  
table. "I cannot begin to tell you how much better I feel," Josh announced  
as he sat back down.  
"Thank you, Josh. I really wanted to know," Caelan said, looking at Josh  
mildly disgusted, but in good humor.  
"Oh, you know. I'm just getting ready for tomorrow night. We have to act  
all nice and proper at these parties. Sometimes it drives me crazy."  
"I bet you two clean up very nicely," Caelan commented, straightening Sam's  
collar.  
"Well, I do, but I can't speak for Sam over there," Josh kidded.  
"I bet you also clean up very nicely," Sam added. "In fact, I bet when you  
get into the formal wear, you're the most amazing girl in the building."  
Caelan grunted. "Yeah, right!" she exclaimed. "I don't do formal."  
"Are you going tomorrow night?" Josh asked.  
The question caught Caelan off guard. "You know, I don't know. Maybe.  
But I hope not. I mean, I've never been suave or elegant a day in my life."  
"I don't believe that," Sam told her softly.  
"Thank you for your confidence, but I know how I am. And me in a long gown  
is not a good thing to have happen."  
"I bet you're wrong," Sam insisted.  
"I'm going to have to go with Sam on this one, Caelan," Josh chimed in.  
"Well, I don't know," Caelan sighed. "But it's getting late. I should be  
going."  
"So soon?" Josh asked.  
"Yes, so soon," Caelan said. "I have to get up in the morning, as do you  
too. Sleep is a good thing."  
Caelan went to pay her bill but Sam stopped her. "I said this one was on  
me."  
Caelan eyed him suspiciously. "It's not necessary."  
"I want to."  
"Well, I'm too tired to fight you," she finally gave in. "I had fun. I  
hope we can do it again sometime when we're not so crazed over some stupid  
thing. Goodnight."  
"Goodnight," Sam and Josh said together. As she walked away, they said  
nothing. Josh reached for his glass and took a swig of water. Then he  
turned to his friend, to find Sam staring helplessly after Caelan. That's  
when Josh realized what he'd been missing all night.  
"No way," he said aloud, shaking his head.  
Sam turned back to Josh. "What?" he asked innocently.  
"You've got a thing for her."  
"A thing?"  
"Yeah, you've got a thing for Caelan Reed," Josh concluded.  
Redness crept into his cheeks as Sam became flustered trying to create a  
response. "I don't have a… thing with Caelan. I mean, she fun to be around  
and sweet but I mean, I don't… no, I don't."  
Josh laughed. "Yes, you do. You've got a big thing for her."  
Swallowing hard, Sam tried to keep a calm exterior. "Maybe a little," he  
finally admitted.  
"There's no need to be embarrassed, Sam," Josh told him truthfully. "She  
seems like a wonderful girl."  
Feeling better with Josh's mild approval, Sam sat more comfortably. "Do  
you think I have a chance with her?"  
"Hard to say," Josh said, shrugging. "I mean, she obviously was coming on  
to me all night."  
Sam's mouth dropped open. "That's a lie," he insisted indignantly.  
"Are you kidding? She was as see through as you are!"  
"She was not! I mean, she treated us equally with her time and energy and  
attention."  
"Yeah, but she's the one who invited me along," Josh pointed out. Sam's  
mouth moved to speak, but he had become too frustrated to make anything come  
out. Josh laughed. "I'm just messing with your head. I don't think she  
was flirting with either one of us."  
Looking slightly like a hurt little boy, Sam tried to get away from the  
subject. "We should get some sleep tonight," he said, after taking a sip of  
water.  
"Are you going to ask her out?" Josh asked, not willing to let it go.  
"I'm really not talking about this anymore with you," Sam said, collecting  
his bill and Caelan's.  
"Hey, I can get part of that," Josh said, reaching for Caelan's bill.  
"Goodnight, Josh," Sam said simply and composed, as he walked to the  
cashier.  
Josh laughed and shook his head. With one more gulp, he finished his  
water. Sam Seaborn was an amazing guy sometimes, but when it came to women,  
he seemed completely hopeless. Between dating a hooker and the boss's  
daughter, he hadn't had much luck recently. But when Josh thought about it,  
that was more dating than he himself had done in the last year.  
That thought wasn't exactly a happy thought for Josh, so he gathered his  
bill and headed for the door.  
TBC...

  


	6. Russian Roulette 6

Look, it's the last part. I know I'm excited. Yes, so this is the end of  
this story however, I'm thinking that the saga may continue (I have ideas I  
want to play with). All disclaimers in part one.

Russian Roulette  
CHAPTER SIX  
~the next day~  
Caelan Reed came into work feeling oddly refreshed despite the fact she'd  
only gotten six hours of sleep the night before, which compared to her usual  
eight, should have left her needing more. Staying out with Sam and Josh had  
cost her the normal amount of sleep, but it had lifted her spirits in a way  
she hadn't felt in a long time. So when she was unusually chipper when she  
came into the office, Gary noticed.  
"Caelan, what happened to you?" he demanded when her cheerfulness proved to  
be a little too deep for the situation.  
"Nothing," she said innocently. "I'm just seeing the positive side of  
things."  
"Positive side?" Gary asked. "Caelan, we're trying to ensure that the  
entire country of Russia isn't plunged into a time of complete chaos and  
panic."  
Her spirits seemed unable to be dampened. "So you've got to find joy in  
the little things," she said. "How was Amy's play last night?"  
"Fine. Wonderful. Amy was brilliant. She was disappointed you couldn't  
make it."  
"So am I. But one of us had to stay."  
"It's a good thing too. April told me about Markov's change of heart last  
night. You did good, Caelan."  
"Thanks," she said gratefully. "It was nothing though. Markov was easily  
convinced back to his old point of view."  
"Nonetheless, I don't know what I'd do without you," Gary said.  
"Gary, you know I love this job."  
"I know that you're extremely important to my work. I mean, you're more my  
coworker rather than my employee. Which is why you have to come with me  
tonight," Gary slipped the last phrase in quickly.  
Caelan's face finally fell. "I'm going tonight?"  
"Yes. You're my backup. You know most of the details with this one, and  
you've worked with the President's staff. I need your backup."  
"But I don't know how to go to a formal dinner," Caelan tried to explain.  
"It's easy. You'll do fine."  
"I don't have a dress."  
"I've contacted the President's staff and they've arranged for something to  
be done for you. In fact, it's being delivered in about an hour for you to  
try. You'll be fine."  
"Gary!"  
"Caelan, you're going."  
Caelan resigned herself to defeat. "I'm going to get you for this."  
Gary chuckled. "Someday you'll thank me."

~later, as the dinner begins~  
"Josh!" Donna called into his office. "They've already started."  
Josh was fiddling with his bow tie, trying to make it look the way it  
should. "Is Markov here?"  
"Yes," Donna said, coming into his office. "And all of his Russian friends  
and all of our friends and everybody except you."  
"And you," Josh pointed out.  
Donna shook her head as she watched Josh unsuccessfully work his bow tie.  
"Here," she said, exasperated. "Let me."  
Josh relinquished the tie, and let Donna fix it. While she was  
concentrated on it, he saw her for the first time. She wore a long purple  
dress with two spaghetti straps. Her hair was swept on top of her head in a  
way Josh couldn't even begin to describe. "You look great tonight," he said  
softly.  
She finished tying his bow and then looked up into his face, realizing that  
she was closer to him than usual. "Thanks," she replied.  
"Yeah," Josh said awkwardly. "Thanks… for tying my bow tie."  
"No problem," Donna said quickly. They both stood there a moment before  
Donna said, "We're already late."  
"Yeah," Josh agreed, as Donna went out the door. He reached for his  
jacket, and slipped it on and followed after her.  
The dinner was well underway. People were gathered around making small  
talk, while whine was served with the appetizers. Sam found himself  
standing alone, scanning the room, looking for a familiar face that he  
actually wanted to talk to. And then he spotted Caelan, standing nervously  
in the corner. A smile came to his lips uncontrollably, and without  
thinking, he walked to her.  
"Wow, you look… wow," Sam said when he got a good look at Caelan.  
She smiled nervously at him. "I feel ridiculous," she said, looking down  
over her formal gown. It was light blue and simple, but very flattering on  
her trim figure. Her long brown hair had been French braided by her  
roommate, Renee, so it looked professional and elegant.  
"You don't look ridiculous," Sam said.  
"I feel… naked," she admitted, fondling her spaghetti straps. "I'm not  
used to the formal stuff. The only time I've ever been this fancy before  
was at my senior prom and even then, it was just a homemade dress, not like  
this thing which I'm sure is completely expensive."  
"Caelan, stop talking," Sam ordered softly. "Just enjoy the moment."  
"I must sound like a complete idiot," she said, sighing.  
"No," Sam told her gently. "I just want to have a moment with you when I  
can concentrate on the way you are. You're beautiful, Caelan."  
Blushing shyly, Caelan looked at her feet. "Sam, that's so sweet."  
"Well, I mean it," he said. "You look better than anyone else in this  
room."  
"I doubt that but thank you just the same."  
"Is that Caelan Reed?" Josh asked, as he came up to the two. "I mean, it  
kind of looks like her, but Caelan said that she never looked suave and  
elegant."  
Caelan rolled her eyes. "Josh Lyman, you're so hopeless."  
Josh grinned. "I know," he said. "I hate to interrupt, but I need to  
steal Sam for moment."  
"Sure, no problem," Caelan said.  
"It'll only take a minute," Josh assured them.  
"I'll be there in a second," Sam said, as Josh disappeared into the West  
Wing. Turning to Caelan he said, "Promise me one thing."  
"What?"  
"You'll save me a dance."  
"Okay," Caelan said. "I promise you one dance, and that means something  
because I can't dance."  
"Great," Sam said, smiling broadly. He wavered momentarily as he got lost  
in Caelan's face. "Great… okay, I got to go."  
Caelan couldn't help by laugh as she watched him go, tripping over a chair  
and nearly falling on his way out.  
The time passed rather quickly, and dinner was served, and then during the  
dessert, the President made his simple speech with Gary translating it into  
Russian for Markov, who nodded politely throughout. Then the people got up  
again and mingled, while the President, with Leo by his side, made a point  
of gathering Gary and Markov together for a small chat. After a little  
while, Gary excused himself for a moment and came over to get a bite to eat.  
"So how's it going?" Caelan asked her boss. She had been hanging out near  
the food table, feeling exceptionally out of place for most of the evening.  
Taking a random appetizer, Gary popped it in his mouth. "It's slow. These  
Russians are surprisingly stuck up."  
"Isn't it nerve-racking playing translator? I mean, what if you say  
something wrong?"  
"Who knows?" Gary shrugged. Then he made a face. "That tasted funny."  
"But things are going as planned? Markov's responding to the President's  
proposals?"  
Gary, however, was distracted. "That really didn't taste right…."  
"Mr. Johansen? Are you okay?" Caelan asked, worriedly as her boss started  
doubling over. With a long groan resembling a belch, Gary fled the room,  
clutching his stomach. He didn't slow down, not when he hit the Deputy  
Chief of Staff, not even when the secret service began to chase him down,  
not until he found the bathroom.  
Caelan watched him go in disbelief. She was so surprised; she didn't even  
see the President until he spoke. "Excuse me, but where did Mr. Johansen  
go?" he asked her.  
Trying to bring herself back down to reality, she stammered. "Umm… I think  
he got sick," she told him hesitantly. "He ate one of these brown things  
and then made a beeline to the bathroom."  
Leo, who was next to the President, looked concerned. "Will somebody go  
check on Mr. Johansen?" he asked.  
"You mean the guy in the bathroom?" Josh asked, just catching the last part  
of their conversation. "He didn't look so good."  
"Will someone go see if he needs any help?" the President suggested.  
"Some Secret Service Agent followed him in there," Josh said.  
A moment later, an agent discretely came up the President and whispered  
something to him. After listening, the President exclaimed, "The  
hospital?!"  
"Apparently, it's an allergic reaction. His whole face is swelling, he  
can't even talk anymore," the agent explained.  
"Okay," the President sighed, dismissing him. He turned to Leo. "Where are  
we going to find someone to translate Russian for us on the spur of the  
moment?"  
"Caelan speaks Russian," Josh suggested, obliviously.  
The President turned to him. "Who?"  
"Caelan Reed," he said, gesturing to her. Her eyes were wide and scared.  
"Mr. Johansen's aide."  
"You know Russian?" Leo asked.  
Caelan nodded reluctantly. "Yes, but I have no experience as an official-"  
"But you can speak it and understand it fluently?" Leo clarified.  
"Yes, but-"  
"No buts. This is important and an emergency. Come with us," Leo said,  
beginning to lead her and the President back the Russians.  
Caelan looked desperately at Josh. He nudged her in the right direction.  
"You're country's calling on you to serve," he told her. "And you can't  
just say no."  
"But Josh--!"  
"You're patriotic, right? Well, this is your duty," he said, giving her  
one last shove so she was standing face to face with a Russian general.  
~~~~later~~~~~  
"Well, thank you, Miss Reed," President Bartlet said after he was sure the  
Russian officials had been properly taken back to their hotels. "You saved  
the night. Arranging a meeting with our new friend, General Markov, never  
would have happened without you. Your country owes you a debt of  
gratitude."  
Caelan offered a weak smile. "No problem, sir," she said as he disappeared  
back to the Oval Office. For the first time since Gary had rushed off to  
the bathroom, Caelan was able to breathe. She gave a large exhale, and  
realized she was exhausted. The adrenaline that had propelled her through  
an evening of sudden diplomacy and translation was finally waning. She  
jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. Turning, she saw Sam Seaborn  
standing behind her, looking apologetic.  
"Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you."  
Caelan gave a tired laugh. "No, no, it's okay. I'm just a little jumpy  
right now."  
"You did great tonight. I mean, you may have changed foreign relations  
with Russia," Sam complimented her. "But I never got my dance that I was  
promised."  
"Dance? I was a little busy," Caelan said.  
"I know. But, you know, the music's still going. Last dance of the night,  
and I saved it just for you," Sam said.  
Caelan looked around. The guests were beginning to gather their coats and  
leaving, but the string quartet was still playing. She smiled. "Well, I  
did promise."  
With a grin, Sam offered his hand, which Caelan gratefully took. He led  
her onto the vacant dance floor where they began a simple dance. Carefully,  
Sam took the risk of drawing her close. Caelan didn't resist. "You're  
shaking," Sam told her softly.  
"I was terrified," Caelan admitted, looking into his eyes.  
"You shouldn't have been. You did wonderful."  
"The entire time I just kept thinking about how I was translating Russian  
for the President. He was standing like two feet from me. I kept worrying  
I was saying something wrong and accidentally tell the Russians that America  
wants to bomb Moscow or something idiotic."  
Sam laughed. "But you didn't, not that I would be able to understand the  
difference. Nonetheless, you were just great."  
Feeling much more at ease, Caelan said, "So you've said. For the Deputy  
Communications Director, you're awfully repetitive."  
"That's what happens when I'm in the presence of a beautiful woman. My  
entire brain shuts off."  
Their eyes were connected, and neither one of them wanted to break the  
gaze. "You may be repetitive, but you sure know what to say."  
Gaining confidence, Sam gave a smile. "You know, if you're not doing  
anything tomorrow night we could, you know, do something."  
"Like a date?"  
"Like dinner and a conversation," Sam explained innocently.  
"Oh. Well, it sounds like fun," she replied, smiling up at him.  
"So that's a yes?"  
"Maybe," she said mysteriously. "Only if you… kiss me right now."  
"You drive a hard bargain," he commented. "But when you've got a product  
like the one you have, you've got all the cards."  
"Shut up," she told him softly, unable to wait any longer. The quartet had  
packed up. The tables were being bussed. The people were all gone.  
Holding Caelan in his arms, her green eyes looking up into his, he leaned  
down and kissed her.

THE END (for now….)


End file.
